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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362525">bellflower-blue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tansybells/pseuds/tansybells'>tansybells</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Fluff without Plot, Married Couple, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), They are Happy and live in a Pretty Little House, because they deserve it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:14:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362525</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tansybells/pseuds/tansybells</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Edelgard tries to do something nice for her wife, but a little birdie gets in her way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Marianne von Edmund/Edelgard von Hresvelg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>bellflower-blue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Edelgard whispers, holding her hand out. “Please, I only wish to get a little bit closer to you.”</p><p>How pitiful. She had once been the Emperor of the Adrestian Empire itself, the Flame Emperor, the unitor of Fódlan. She had brought her people, commonwealth and nobility alike, together under her banner. And she could have done so much more, had she not decided to abdicate her position for the good of an enduring nation.</p><p>So why is it, then, that she is being so easily overcome by something so insignificant as a paltry little bird?</p><p>The creature in question, a round little chickadee, hops around on a low-hanging tree branch and cocks its head inquisitively to the side. Reluctantly, Edelgard meets its dark, fathomless, beady little eyes, holds her birdseed-strewn arm out to entice it, and tries to keep the bird from staring too deeply into her soul.</p><p>“Could you just… hop onto my hand?” she entreats the chickadee, trying to adopt a tone similar to the singsong voice her wife uses whenever talking to her <em> many </em> beloved animals. She simply doesn’t seem to have that same gentle magic that Marianne possesses, which isn’t surprising, but Edelgard finds it frustrating nonetheless.</p><p>The chickadee looks at her skeptically, but instead of fluttering onto her hand as she’d hoped, allowing her the opportunity to study its form while painting on the easel she has set up right next to the tree, it lifts its round little body into the air and flies away.</p><p>“No, no, come back!” Edelgard cries quietly, the birdseed that she’d poured all over her arm falling off onto the ground as she reaches after the fleeing creature. She watches it fly away, and following its path, she turns around to see that not only has it decided to fly away from her, it’s found a more appealing place to perch.</p><p>Marianne stands behind her, the rising morning sun a perfect halo about her head as a light spring breeze toys with the hem of her bellflower-blue nightgown. She lifts a delicate hand with two fingers extended, a perfect perch for the little chickadee that apparently prefers her company over Edelgard’s.</p><p>Edelgard’s heart flutters at the sight. Her wife looks like a garden fairy in her natural element, an angel too beautiful for words to express, a dryad worshiped by the dawn. Once again, Edelgard marvels at the life that she somehow wakes up to every morning. Marianne, veritable goddess that she is, smiles at her with kindness in her eyes<em> , </em> kisses her bloodstained hands, and against all odds, is married to <em> her. </em></p><p>Even after Edelgard had informed her of her intention to abdicate, and would thus no longer have her position to add to her appeal, Marianne had been unfazed. Like Edelgard’s power had never been the reason for her love in the first place.</p><p>“Good morning, Edelgard,” Marianne greets her, covering her yawn with the hand not currently occupied by a smug little bird. “You’re up early. Did something wake you?”</p><p>Edelgard frowns faintly. Is it really that early? The only thing that she did out of her normal routine was rise without giving a morning greeting to Marianne, as it’s for Marianne’s sake that she is trying to befriend the bird in the first place. Though, she must admit that it’s relatively abnormal for her painting smock to be covered in birdseed. That isn’t a part of her usual creative process.</p><p>But the longer Edelgard remains in silent contemplation of her answer, the deeper the furrow between Marianne’s brows grows. Her hand lowers, like she’s prepared to let the bird fly away in favor of trying to ease whatever she thinks ails her.</p><p>“Is something wrong, Edelgard?” she asks, her other hand coming to rest at her neckline and worrying the lace of her collar. “If—if there <em> is, </em>you know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Despite the hesitation in her voice, her warm eyes meet Edelgard’s with nothing in them but loving concern. She smiles thinly, anxiously, and Edelgard’s heart clenches at the sight.</p><p>“I know I can come to you with anything,” Edelgard hurries to assure her. “But I promise, Marianne, nothing is wrong. I only—”</p><p>With a flash of realization, Edelgard looks over her shoulder to see that her easel is in plain view, and she takes a wide step to the side in an attempt to obscure it from Marianne. She shakes birdseed from her clothing as she does so, and smiles bashfully. “I was trying to do something for you, that is all.”</p><p>“Can I see?” Apparently intrigued by Edelgard’s reaction, Marianne sets the chickadee gently on her shoulder and takes a step towards Edelgard.</p><p>Edelgard reflexively takes a step back, spreading her arms out on either side of her as she tries to obscure her yet-unfinished canvas. “It’s not anywhere near done yet,” she blurts out defensively. “It looks positively horrible, I promise you.”</p><p>At her protests, Marianne simply smiles. It’s pleasant and kind, and free of the judgement Edelgard so fears, and once again, she is reminded of the peace that her wife brings to her soul. Why would she be ashamed of her work in front of her very heart, Edelgard has to remind herself. Marianne has seen her in triumph, in defeat, in the moonlight that flows in like a crystalline dream through their bedroom window—there is nothing Marianne hasn’t seen of her, nothing that Edelgard truly needs to hide from her wife.</p><p>There is nothing she needs to fear, for Marianne loves her.</p><p>Slowly, her movement thick and lagging with hesitation, Edelgard steps to the side and allows Marianne to see the canvas she’s so far kept hidden. She winces away from Marianne as she steps closer, as though she’s got to preemptively protect herself from an oncoming blow, but Marianne is full of nothing but graciousness. As gentle as a morning breeze, she wraps her arms around one of Edelgard’s and rests her head on Edelgard’s shoulder as she faces the canvas.</p><p>There isn’t much to see, as most of her morning has been spent on the arduous task of trying to capture the shape of Marianne’s beloved birds <em> just so. </em>What embarrasses Edelgard the most, though, is the thought of Marianne seeing the charcoal sketch of herself. It’s not entirely accurate, she has to admit that, but Edelgard has long since memorized the shapes and planes of Marianne’s face, and there’s no doubt that the beautiful, nymph-like figure that takes up most of the canvas is her wife.</p><p>“I don’t understand,” Marianne begins, causing Edelgard to freeze up immediately, “why you were so scared to show me. This is beautiful.” Edelgard laughs under her breath, nervous yet relieved, and she wants nothing more than to hide her face in Marianne’s nightgown. And as no one is watching them—there’s no cause for that, not anymore—Edelgard allows herself to indulge in just that.</p><p>“It’s the birds,” she finally mumbles into Marianne’s sleeve. “I tried to speak to them, like you do, so that I could get their shape correct, but I don’t believe they care for my presence.”</p><p>As if to prove her point, the chickadee still on Marianne’s other shoulder hops up and down upon its perch and chirps loudly as if it wishes nothing more than to drown out her confession.</p><p>“Is that why there’s birdseed all over the ground around your easel?” Marianne asks. Edelgard feels her face begin to heat to an uncomfortable degree as she nods. It’s uncomfortable to feel so vulnerable, particularly after a lifetime in which a single chink in her armor meant certain death, but she just has to remind herself that Marianne bears her no ill will.</p><p>“I thought that if I covered my arm with the birdseed,” she admits, “then perhaps a few of the birds would perch there and I could paint them.”</p><p>With a shy little smile that makes Edelgard’s knees wobble beneath her smock, “I would have spoken to them for you,” Marianne says in a voice so quiet that Edelgard has to look up and see that her lips are indeed moving. “Well, um, I still can.”</p><p>Then, she turns to meet Edelgard’s eyes with that same smile. “If you want me to, I mean. If you want me to leave you alone so you can paint without interruption, I can understand.”</p><p>Edelgard finds herself smiling in return. Marianne should know by now that if Edelgard didn’t want her around, Edelgard would have let her know in no uncertain terms. But despite having gone so far as to <em>propose </em>to her, Edelgard has to remind herself that there were years in which Marianne considered herself unable to accept the love that others held for her. The love that others <em>yet</em> hold for her.</p><p>“No, no, Marianne,” she says, knocking her hand idly against the side of Marianne’s nightgown. “I’d like you to stay.” Her hand brushes against Marianne’s, and elation runs through her as Marianne’s slender fingers tangle with her own.  </p><p>“Are you sure? Because I can—”</p><p>“I want you to stay.” Edelgard fully takes Marianne’s hand up in her own. “If there’s anyone I want to see my paintings, it’s you. It’ll always be you, Marianne.”</p><p>Marianne giggles as Edelgard lifts her hand up and brushes her lips against Marianne’s knuckles. Then, Edelgard glances up to behold her wife’s faintly blushing face. “Though, if you’d ask that little bird to stay around for a while,” she adds with a teasing lilt to her voice, “I would certainly be much obliged.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a sweet little thing, inspired by one of <a href="https://twitter.com/missgenoard/status/1297714192883957761?s=19">Kiah's</a> marigard headcanons on twitter ♡</p><p>Have a lovely day! Thank you for reading~~</p></blockquote></div></div>
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